Absence makes the heart grow fungus
by CharlieMistry
Summary: Pseudo-prequel to "When I think about you"... also a bridge thing between PW 3-4. Phoenix recalls his life or lack thereof without Miles.


When he left, he said he'd be back when he knew where he was. He always was one for amateur dramatics.

I expected him to come back in a few days. He'd done this before. Like that time with the "Miles Edgeworth chooses death" thing. I hated him for that. Something in me almost wished he had, especially when he came back. But after that, he came through for me in court. I'm sure it wasn't too much later after that when we became lovers. We'd been together a few months when he'd gone away yet again. That time though, he actually promised to return. And he did, even if it did require a near death experience on my part.

But this time... I waited the first few days, no problem. History taught me that he'd sulk around in Europe for a week or so, calling occasionally, then get bored and come home. Two weeks without any word, I started getting a little unnerved. Just in case, I scoured his house, his office and my flat for any sign of a suicide note. I never found anything, so I tried to take some comfort in that. I tried occupying my mind by taking on more cases. Of course, it didn't help. I still longed for him. I'd enter the court room, glance over at the prosecutors bench and imagine him there. Such sour disappointment when I'd wake up from my daydreaming and see Winston Payne staring back at me from behind his thick glasses. It must've been fun for him to think that someone finally wanted to have sex with him. Poor bugger.

Every night I'd go home to my apartment. Usually, I'd try calling him. He'd never answer though. Sometimes, I'd give in and leave a voicemail. I dread to remember exactly how the voice messages went but I'm sure they were something along the lines of "I miss you... Call me back as soon as you get this... I just need to know you're okay", occasionally ending with me in tears. Not incredibly smooth, I know. When my assistant and friend Maya came round, she'd sigh and roll her eyes whenever she saw me staring at the phone. Even worse was when she'd bring her young innocent cousin round. Pearls is adorable but trying to explain the concept of homosexuality to her was kind of like training a fish to operate a helicopter. I suppose it wasn't that bad really. In fact, I was a little disappointed when she finally started to understand it. I was more than just disappointed however when she asked "Nick, is Mr Edgeworth your gay special someone?". After that, Maya stopped bringing Pearls round. And not long after, she had to leave for good too.

Then came that case. It was a normal enough case, well, at least for my career anyway. It was a bit odd however that I had to take over from another attorney part way through. I didn't think too much of it though. I suppose there wasn't enough time to think, because before I knew it, I'd been accused of submitting falsified evidence and found myself facing the judge. I wasn't being threatened with going to jail or execution. Oh no. That would've been far simpler. Instead, it was my badge, my profession, my life on the line...  
I would've ran away, leaving a "Phoenix Wright chooses death" note if I could think of anyone who'd care to read it. But no... Everyone else had gone to live their own lives. My friends... Even Larry Butz, part-time self-confessed ladies' man, full-time bum, had apparently found a proper job somewhere out of state. I still assume he meant he'd found another girl to obsess over but I guess I'll never know, or really care to know.  
And as for the man I loved? I needed him more than ever. It was down to him that I became a lawyer to begin with. He should've been there to give me the strength to get through the days. But he wasn't. I was so alone... Heck, stupid as it sounds, I even contemplated suicide. I spent a whole day once staring at the medicine cupboard, then when I finally decided to "do it" I opened it to find that there was only toothpaste, toilet roll, "massage oils" (read: lube) and some condoms left. I took it as a sign of sorts and just went back to bed.

It was around that time that I met _him_. The serpent in the garden of Eden and also my defence attorney in the trial for my badge. Kristoph Gavin. Sinfully handsome and devilishly intelligent. The moment he offered to defend me, I gave in and accepted. Back then, he talked to me as if he had full faith in me. Either that or I was too busy visually tracing the curve of his neck to pay attention to anything he said. What was worse was that he knew I wanted him. Yet I was still trying to clasp to the hope that Miles loved me and that he'd be back any time soon. It was an all mighty struggle, one that I managed to come out on top of... for a couple of weeks anyway. Then it was Kristoph who came on top, all puns intended. It was when we made love that I saw him as he really was. Hmm... "made love" is the wrong expression here. When we _fucked_. Much more appropriate.  
I remember the first time clearly. A week or so after I'd been disbarred. After the day of the medicine cupboard. He'd promised to make it up to me somehow, so he took me out for coffee. Somehow, the topic of conversation came to the ultimate party question: "What's the most exciting place you've ever had sex?"  
I thought my answers of "the beach" and "a bar restroom" were winners but apparently, Mr Gavin was a lot more adventurous in these matters. I recall gasping loudly when he said "the little alley next to the courtroom", casually sipping at his mocha then licking his lips. He went on listing others but stopped when he noticed how uncomfortable I was getting. He gave me that "comforting" smile (when you really look into it, there's nothing comforting about it whatsoever) then asked if we should head to my place.  
"M-my place?!" I choked in response.  
"Yes, Phoenix," he smirked, "The place in which you live."  
I didn't really know how to respond.  
"Come now. We're two grown men, interested in sharing a physical relationship and you can't tell me you're not. I've seen your trousers whenever I walk by."  
"Kristoph, I have a boyfriend."  
"Well, that being the case, how come I haven't seen this... _boyfriend_? Well? Shouldn't he be right here instead of me?"  
"He's just... away at the moment..." I blushed awkwardly.  
"_Away_..." he laughed. I still don't know what that laugh meant. "I've heard that one before."  
"Please, Kristoph, I _love_ my boyfriend..." I pleaded.  
"That's so sweet... but so sad," he sighed, looking... _sympathetic_. Or a close approximation anyway.  
I looked away, feeling immensely sorry for myself.  
He pulled my face to his and kissed me so softly... like he was afraid of bruising my lips. He was being so... considerate. Considerate, attentive, romantic... All thoughts I'd had melted and I was like putty in his slender hands. He brought me to his car and whispering into my ear, he asked for my address. Foolishly, I answered truthfully. Before long, we reached my flat. After I rushed around, covering up any photos of Miles (so I couldn't see his eyes watch me with another man), we stripped each other, kissing all the while. The softness had gone. Now we were alone, it felt more as if he was _trying_ to leave bruises. I'm not exactly what you'd call delicate so I _fought_ back. Then when we got down to it... the earlier kiss in the cafe was the furthest thing I could think of. He was a selfish lover, determined to come.

Fortunately, for probably everyone involved, we didn't become romantically involved. I don't think the man is capable of love. We remained friends, however, and I think another accurate description of our relationship would be "fuck buddies". "Bootie call" would be another. Whatever he was, he'd broken my chaste wait for Miles. As a result, I lost all hope of his return. This made me take a leaf from Larry's old book of tricks. I took up a string of part-time jobs and part-time lovers in an attempt to forget all about him. Over time, it sort of worked, but it changed me. In particular, I was no longer able to have faith in any human being.

Well, there was one person I had faith in. Maybe faith isn't the right word. Either way, she became the light of my life and my reason to get up every morning. Literally. I'd be woken up by sunlight pouring through the window and an excitable eight year old girl jumping on my bed. Trucy. My Trucy Doll. I can't even remember who suggested she stay with me after her father disappeared. Before I even knew what was happening, I had become a dad. A rather unconventional one, but Truce has never been a very conventional daughter. I tried having the same "Sometimes men love other men" talk that I'd had with Pearls with her quite early on. She simply said "I already know you're gay" then returned to spinning around on my office chair.  
She also more-or-less understood when I told her about Edgeworth. Well, I'd say she understood as well as I did. She's always been such a bright kid, even if she is quite out there. She's also a little... difficult on the subject of money. She always insisted on charging people to watch her magic shows, which did actually bring in some money, but not even half what it cost to buy the strange things she needed for the tricks in the first place. But I didn't care. She became so important to me that I just didn't care. Although, I did have to sell the apartment as a result. We moved into another, even smaller, cheaper, grungier apartment. It's still not a particularly pleasant place to be, but it's our home. So many fun memories...  
Like the time that Trucy first had a visit from her "monthly friend". I was watching tv and she ran in, waving her panties in the air. I got up to calm her down then fainted as soon as I saw blood. So much use I turned out to be as a dad in that occasion.

As a single parent, there was always the sort of... I don't know. Ideology or something. Well, one of those that I could find a "mother" figure for Trucy. Obviously, she wasn't expecting a woman. In fact, for years, she for some reason expected it to be Kristoph. When she turned fifteen, I finally had to explain to her what a bootie call was (turns out she, for some reason, knew already) and that Kristoph was mine. In all the years, I hadn't had many lovers, but I was still often starved for that intimacy. Kristoph was always willing to oblige. The man had a bizarre sexual appetite.  
For example, when he got a new apprentice. He spent days telling me what he wanted to do to him. Then spent weeks telling me what he had done to him. I felt sorry for the kid. He sounded pretty naive and I had a bad feeling that Kristoph held him under the impression that it was love rather than mindless fucking. I felt even more sorry for him when Kristoph asked me to join in.  
"Come on, Phoenix. He'll do whatever you ask him to."  
"That's not really an incentive, Kris..." I frowned.  
"Oh, it would be if you gave him a try..." he smirked.  
"You do remember that this guy's a human being, right? Not a sex toy?"  
He simply adjusted his glasses.  
"I think you should go. Trucy'll be home from school soon," I growled.  
"I never knew you were such a prude, Phoenix..." he sighed, getting up from the sofa.  
"Goodbye Kristoph."  
"Good day, Wright," he sighed, giving one of his lazy snobbish waves.  
And then about a week later, he framed me for murder.

I begged Kristoph to take my case. He gave it to his toyboy. Fortunately. The kid put truth ahead of his job and even the man he thought he was in love with. Major "props" to him. Turned out that he also happened to be Trucy's half-brother. So, yeah, I felt I rather owed him after losing him his job. I took him in as my own (not a gimp) apprentice. And he's one of few people who could really keep Trucy entertained. Much to his dismay. But we had become a happy... well, family unit's not the right term here. Trucy and Apollo didn't know anything about their mother and therefore had no idea they were related. And Apollo had his own apartment and tried to stay there as much as possible. But apart from all that, we made a great family.  
There was some slight... friction when we met a certain prosecutor though. Klavier Gavin. I'm sure the name must sound familiar. Yep. Klavier Gavin, younger brother of Kristoph Gavin. I can work out why Kristoph had never really introduced me to him before. I originally thought it was kindness in keeping me from the man who had me disbarred. In reality, he was just keeping me from falling for the young vision of manly perfection. Which, on a shallow level, I did. So did Apollo. Thus the friction.  
Although, once again, I think it could be considered Kristoph's fault. Having screwed us both over, metaphorically and literally, we were both longing for the Kristoph we thought we knew. Then seeing Klavier... we were both a little taken aback. Fortunately though, it was over quite quickly. We were both a little put off by the glimmerous foppishness and the rocking and rolling. Besides, I started to realise that I'm just not really the type to have a toyboy.

Having someone look up to me as a defence attorney again... it dragged me back into the past a bit. I thought about taking the bar exam again but... I guess I'm just not that man anymore. I still cared about truth and justice but... I don't know. I worked to get the jury system re-introduced. There was still something missing. Something. Someone.

Then Miles Edgeworth came back into my life. As emotionally deranged as ever.


End file.
